Pictures and Reflections
by T.L. Imela
Summary: "He first fell in love with her smile." Monk meets Trudy while solving his first murder case.
1. Chapter 1

**Pictures and Reflections**

Her picture sat there, smiling up at him. It was in black and white coloring, but he could tell that she had very light hair, most likely blond, and her eyes looked light too.

She was very pretty. The most beautiful thing about her was her smile. It was as if she had no reservations about smiling, her full lips turned upward into a picturesque thing of beauty.

Adrian Monk tried to flip the paper over and continue on to the next page, as he _had _been trying to read a story, but he soon found that he was still too drawn to her picture.

She was a new journalist to the _San Francisco Tribune_. There was a simple introduction piece to her, accompanied by the picture he was so drawn to. As much as change usually disagreed with Adrian, he had to admit that this change…wasn't _so _unpleasant.

He had read her profile with some interest….she had gone to Berkeley…_just like me_…he thought with pleasant amusement. She was twenty-three and said her favorite movie of the year was something called _Back to the Future_. He had never heard of that picture before, and was a little uncertain what it had to do with her journalistic ability.

Once again, he tried to turn the page, continuing to read the story he had originally began. However, something about her smiling face kept him drawn to her picture.

She was so pretty. So pretty that if he had seen her in real life, he knew he would've never been bold enough to approach her. She was leagues above _other _girls who, in turn, were leagues above him. But still…the picture was nice to look at…

Adrian glanced up at the clock on the wall. It was almost time for him to begin his shift down at the precinct. He was a detective for the San Francisco Police Department's homicide unit. The job was a source of pride for Adrian, who was beginning to earn a lot of respect among the officers in the unit. The last case he solved involved uncovering a corrupt lawyer, Dave Patterson, who had long been a thorn in the department's side, and this seemed to have gained the approval of his watch commander, Leland Stottlemeyer.

Finally tearing his eyes away from her picture, Adrian folded the paper neatly, smoothing it out so that all the corners were identical. He walked towards the door, pausing near his telephone, noticing that there had been a message left for him.

"Adrian…it's Ambrose." The message relayed, and his brother's voice sounded very concerned. "When are you coming home? Mom's worried about you. She hasn't said anything, yet, but—but I can tell. She's very worried. You should come home soon."

Adrian sighed, placing one hand to his eyes. He would wait to call his brother back. Ambrose meant well, he was sure, but there had been a reason he had left home after he graduated from college and got his own apartment. He had to get away from that place—and, as much as it pained him—his mother and brother to some extent. He had to _try_ and live his own life, to try and find some semblance of normality…to try and escape...his childhood.

He shook his head, and grabbed his jacket, unable to focus on that right now. He had a big day ahead of him; there was a particularly challenging homicide case that he wanted a chance to solve. He thought perhaps his recent exploits would allow him to be assigned to the case, regardless of the fact that he was only twenty-six and had only spent a few years on the force as of now. He closed the door behind him, a bit smug at these thoughts, before realizing that one of the umbrellas he had kept hanging up on his wall had been turned in a different direction than all the other umbrellas.

_That doesn't matter. It's not a big deal_. Adrian thought, taking a few confident steps forward. But he soon found that all other thoughts had fled his mind, and as usual, the incorrect placement of the umbrella was the only thing he was able to focus on. Sighing to himself, he walked back to his apartment to correct it.

Leland Stottlemeyer was there to greet Adrian as he walked into the precinct doors. Adrian remembered how Stottlemeyer first intimidated him when he had first begun working for the department. Now he viewed him as a mentor, someone he was both eager to learn from—and impress.

"Well, if it's not our recent hero, Adrian Monk." Leland gave a small smirk, clasping Adrian on the shoulder. "I can't tell you how happy I am you nailed that creep Patterson."

"It—it wasn't a big deal." Adrian shrugged, modestly. But inside he was quite pleased with himself. "But thank you, sir."

"Keep it up, detective." He smiled, with a slight nod of his head. "However, crime didn't take a break. We got a body on Vinton St. I thought about taking you and Christy down there today, just to look around. Whattya think?"

Adrian felt his heart thud loudly in his chest. He had never been asked to _take a look around _before. He was definitely starting to impress the right people, especially with the solving of the Patterson case. He tried to keep his hands from fidgeting with his suit jacket. "Yeah—yeah, definitely. Yes, sir."

"Good. Grab Christy and let's go."

It was only about ten minutes later, as Adrian and his partner, Joe Christy, walked around the recent crime scene, the body draped in white, but still uncovered. The woman had been hit in an apparent hit and run, but Adrian was already finding the crime scene suspicious.

He looked over the body with his hands held out in front of him—mentally taking a picture for himself—and noted a curious pale circle on her ring finger over her wedding ring.

"Dang, I guess I got partnered with the right guy." Joe smiled, walking in step behind Adrian. "All the guys are pretty jealous we're on this case. Lucky I'm with you, huh?"

"Well—you deserve to be here just as much." Adrian murmured, and although he believed Joe probably wouldn't be here if Adrian hadn't solved the Patterson case, he still valued his people skills and dedication to paperwork...which Adrian seemed to lack, but which indeed came into play at some crime scenes.

"Hey...we got the _San Francisco Tribune _here today." Joe whispered, giving Adrian a small shoulder bump to get his attention.

Adrian tore his gaze away from the paint chips that had been left behind by a car that apparently had tore away from the crime scene—_that _had been curious—and looked up in the direction in which Joe had indicated.

He felt his breathing slow to a crawl. The _San Francisco Tribune _was indeed at the crime scene; trying to press in as close to the police tape as they were able. There were two women there, notepads and pencils in hand; one was a brunette with wide brown eyes and the other...

Adrian suddenly wanted to hide, to run off and be somewhere else. _She _was here. She was here and she was even more beautiful in person...more beautiful than her picture in the newspaper had been. She was only about five feet from him and in living color—she had long, golden blond hair, soft blue eyes, and that _smile_—that same dazzling smile.

"You okay, Monk?" Joe asked, eyeing his partner curiously. Adrian realized he had been staring in the direction of the journalists for the past few minutes, and nervously dropped his gaze to his shoes...this crime scene was very muddy...he hadn't noticed _that _before...

"You...you _like _her?" Joe smiled, some amusement making its way into his voice.

"Like—like who?" Adrian mumbled, wiping his suddenly perspiring palms on the legs of his pants.

"Who? The girl you been staring at. The blond." Joe gave a low whistle. "She's pretty easy on the eyes, huh?"

Adrian shook his head, his mind still reeling. Somehow the pressure had seemed to mount tenfold, he had to solve this case _now_, nab the suspect, and get everyone involved into custody as fast as possible.

"You should go talk to her." Joe mentioned, with a small smirk. "Or else I will."

Adrian shook his head, unhappy with both of those prospects. He tried to direct his attention back to the chipped paint, "Come on, we're at a crime scene." Adrian explained, trying to settle his mind once again.

A few moments later, Stottlemeyer approached them, one eyebrow raised at the young detective. "Notice anything?"

Adrian nodded, eager to share what evidence he had collected. "These paint chips...they belong to a green Volvo. You can tell by the type of paint used, it's only put on the Volvo models."

Stottlemeyer nodded his head, obviously impressed. "Well, at least we know what kind of car we're looking for." Then, as an afterthought he added, "Hey, Monk, I want you to do me a favor. The _Tribune _sent down some reporters, they seem like real rookies. You can handle them for me, right?"

"H—handle them?" Adrian asked, his head jerking to the side slightly, his fingers clenching and unclenching nervously.

"Yeah, just answer everything with a 'no comment at this time'. It'll be easy, alright?" Stottlemeyer gave Adrian's shoulder a slap, causing him to grimace slightly.

Adrian shifted his gaze uncertainly over to the women by the police tape. _She _was still there and now she was watching him expectantly, as if wondering if he would come any further than the few steps he had shuffled nervously.

Taking in a deep breath, Adrian made the rest of the seemingly long trek to the two reporters. When he reached them, he found that she was even more beautiful at this proximity, almost blindingly so. His mouth suddenly felt very dry and his tongue weighed heavily in his mouth.

The blond woman gave a small wave that accompanied a bright, but slightly unsure smile. "Hi." She said, tilting her head to one side, her small hands clasping her notepad.

"T—Trudy Ellison." He stammered, blinking quickly.

Trudy inclined her head to one side, before giving another one of her beautiful smiles. "Why, yes. Have we met before?"

"N—newspaper." It was the only thing that seemed to make sense at the moment.

The brunette gave him a look as if he were clearly insane; something he couldn't say he disagreed with at the moment, but Trudy simply gave a confused blink. "Pardon?"

"I read...I read you in the newspaper." Adrian nodded, his hands twitching at his sides. He suddenly became terribly hyper aware of those hands, struggling to know what exactly to do with them so that he appeared calm. "I—I mean, I read _about _you in the newspaper."

The brunette turned to Trudy with her bewildered expression, still confused at this apparently disturbed officer, but Trudy now gave another wide smile.

"Oh, they ran that today? How was it...I mean, they asked me so many stupid questions. Like my favorite movie and stuff like that..."

"_Back to the Future _sounded like it was an exceptional picture film." He said, trying to be conversational. He swallowed quickly, realizing that his voice was still coming out a bit raspier than he had wanted it to.

Trudy gave a soft laugh. "You really paid attention to the article, didn't you?"

"I remember everything I read." Adrian explained, giving a small shrug.

"Hmm." Trudy nodded, and just for a moment, just for a fraction of a second, their eyes seemed to meet. It was only for the faintest of moments though, as soon after Trudy diverted her gaze again. "I...um...have a few questions for the _Tribune_. Um...first, what's your name?"

Adrian shook his head, trying to gather his thoughts. The moment their eyes had met was still seared in his memory; he had never seen eyes as blue—or sincere—as hers had been. He opened his mouth to speak, and words hurriedly spilled out, "No...no comment at this time."

Her laugh startled him; he certainly hadn't been expecting it at all. "That's a good one." She grinned, bringing her notepad up and still looking at him expectantly, as if his initial statement had been a very well received joke, not an awkward mistake.

He gave a hard swallow. "Adrian...Adrian Monk."

"Adrian Monk." Trudy smiled, a light shining in her blue eyes. "Now that's not a name you hear every day."

"I'm sorry." He offered, feeling his efforts to appear cool and collected in front of her had already failed miserably.

The brunette was now visibly rolling her eyes, but Trudy had let out another loud laugh. "_You _are funny."

Adrian's eyes widened in disbelief. He wasn't trying to be funny...and yet somehow she thought every painfully awkward and horrible thing that managed to find its way out of his mouth was actually funny.

"What can you tell me about the victim?" Trudy asked, chewing on her pencil as she did. He realized that this drew attention to those full, pink lips...he shook his head quickly to clear his mind.

"I—I'm sorry, there is no comment at this time." He murmured, his eyes still trailing those pretty lips...

"Well, what happened at the crime scene today?" Trudy pressed, her face shrouding in disappointment.

"No—no comment at this time." He said again, but this time he tried to give her a little smile, however, he wasn't sure if it only came out as an uncomfortable grimace.

Trudy pouted her lips, looking up at him with big blue eyes. "Well, what _can _you tell me today, Mr. Monk?"

"N—nothing." Adrian shrugged, apologetically. "I'm sorry, I really wish I could, but my watch commander said..."

"I understand." Trudy gave a small, but clearly disappointed smile. He felt his heart sink in his chest. "Well, if you ever _can _release anything about the murder, would you do me a favor? Could you _please _call me first?" She rummaged through her purse before handing out a business card.

"No problem." He whispered, taking it from her. His hand brushed hers for a fraction of a second and he felt a heated blush spread across the bridge of his nose. He wetted his lips, nervously. "Is this your...home phone number?"

"No, no, that's my number at the _Tribune_." Trudy explained, before flashing him a vibrant smile. "I hope to hear from you, Mr. Monk."

And then—she _winked _at him. She actually winked...at him. Adrian quickly turned around, seeing if anyone was standing behind him. But there hadn't been, the wink had clearly been sent in his direction and meant for him to see.

Adrian quickly made his way back towards Stottlemeyer and Joe, his head still reeling from the events that had just taken place.

"Well, you talked to them for awhile." Joe smirked, giving Adrian a quick nod. Adrian gave a small nod back, he was sure it was probably some kind of 'bro code' but he hadn't the faintest of what it could mean.

"I—I didn't tell them anything." Adrian replied, hurriedly, giving a quick glance in Stottlemeyer's direction.

"You get the pretty one's name?" Joe murmured, as he and Adrian fell in step behind Stottlemeyer as they headed back towards their car.

"Her name is Trudy." Adrian whispered back, almost unsure as to why he was sharing this information, and in such a private tone of voice. "Trudy...Ellison."


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Later that night, Adrian ate a roast beef sandwich alone on a tray table by his television set. His eyes kept drifting towards the newspaper where Trudy's picture still lay, in perfect black and white and smoothly pressed out. He took a bite of his sandwich thoughtfully, watching the news, without being completely focused on it.

"I wonder what other movies she likes." Adrian murmured, flipping the channel without giving it much thought. "Maybe she likes seeing movies."

Adrian paused, realizing he had just changed the channel to Channel 11. Sighing, he picked up his remote again and changed it back to Channel 10. That was much better.

_She winked at me_. He thought again, pursing his lips tightly. He must've replayed that moment over a hundred times in his head. She had clearly winked at him. Maybe she was trying to be coy...to get pertinent information out of him for her story.

Or maybe she had winked at him.

The sudden ring of the telephone interrupted Adrian from his thoughts. He hesitated for a moment, before finally relenting and picking it up.

"Hello?" He asked, fairly certain he knew who it was that was calling. No one else called him. He didn't know anyone else that personally.

"Adrian—it's Ambrose."

"Ambrose." Adrian nodded, rubbing his temple slightly. "How are you, Ambrose? How's mom doing?"

"You didn't call, Adrian. You said you'd call once a week. You never called last week. Mom was real worried."

"I—I was working on a case." Adrian replied, defensively. He rolled his left shoulder anxiously. "You got the newspaper clippings, right? The newspaper clippings I sent about the case. I—I solved that case."

"Didn't you hear anything I said? Mom's worried about you; she thinks you should come home. She doesn't like you in that apartment all by yourself."

"I like it here." Adrian replied, tersely. "I'm doing fine. I—I solved a big case just last week. I sent you guys the newspaper clippings. They assigned me to another case. I...I think..." Adrian took in a deep breath. "I think they _like _me there."

There was silence at the other end. Adrian sighed, heavily. He didn't know what his brother was doing, but he assumed that Ambrose was probably too jealous of Adrian's success to be able to congratulate him on the case.

After a few more moments of silence, Adrian spoke. "Is Mom there? I can say hi now. I can talk now."

"I'll get her."

Adrian waited a few moments, running his fingers nervously through his dark, black curls. His shoulder gave another roll as he waited for his mother's voice to answer him on the other end.

"Adrian?"

"Yeah. Yeah—yeah, Mom. I'm here. Listen, Ambrose said you've been worried." Adrian was now standing, pacing back and forth in his living room, careful to stay within the reach of the phone cord. "You...you shouldn't worry. I'm fine here."

"Who's taking care of you, Adrian?"

"Me." Adrian replied, his eyes staring at the mirror at the far end of the wall. He tried to tear his gaze away from that mirror—he hated looking into his own eyes. "I'm taking care of myself, Mom."

"I—I don't like that, Adrian. Someone should be taking care of you. Why don't you come home? You can always come home."

"Mom, I like it here. I—I solved a case." Adrian tried again, desperately, trying to get someone to understand his new passion...a passion that involved something so far away from the dismal walls of his childhood home. "I sent the newspaper clippings."

"Oh, oh the newspaper clippings..."

"You—you got them?" Adrian demanded, eagerly, his fingers drumming on his leg as he walked back and forth.

"Adrian, I'm so worried about you. It's not good for our family to be apart. I—I don't like our family apart."

"Mom...Mom, the newspaper clippings." Adrian pressed, his hand now clenching at his side. "I was in the newspaper! Didn't you read them...any of them?"

"Of course I read them." But her voice sounded so distant, so far away from him, and Adrian knew she was having...one of her moments. "You...why aren't you smiling in the pictures, Adrian? You and Ambrose...I worry you two don't smile enough."

"I'm smiling now, Mom." Adrian whispered, sinking back down on the couch. A heavy lump was now settling in his throat. "You...you're going to sleep now, right?"

"I haven't slept...in days, Adrian." Her voice still maintained its distant quality, as if she were thinking of things that happened a long time ago. "How do you sleep...in that apartment?"

"I sleep." He nodded, his eyes still drifting towards that mirror. He would have to remove that mirror. It was a terrible place to put a mirror. "I sleep."

There was another moment of excruciating silence. Adrian moved uncomfortably on his position on the couch, "Goodnight, Mom. I'll—I'll call this week. I won't forget this time."

"Adrian?" It was Ambrose again, and Adrian only hoped his mother had heard his last message. "You're stopping by for Mom's birthday this weekend, aren't you?"

"Ambrose, I already told you I'd be there...if..." Adrian closed his eyes and gritted his teeth. "If I can get the time away."

"Get the time away? It's only an hour on the _weekend_, Mr. Hotshot Detective." Adrian could hear the sneer in Ambrose's voice.

"I sometimes work on the weekends...I'm trying to impress..." Adrian shook his head, knowing his brother would never understand. "I have to impress the department."

"You be here, Adrian. Mom needs a nice birthday. We promised Mom a nice birthday. You won't miss it, Adrian. You're going to be here. Dad might even stop by..."

Adrian let out a frustrated groan. "Ambrose, _please_..."

"Well, _you _don't know. You think you're so smart, up there all by yourself, with your little newspaper clippings. You don't know _anything _that's been going on here. I've been taking care of Mom. I've been helping her around the house. You haven't done anything here, Adrian, so you don't even know."

"Yeah, you're right, Ambrose." Adrian's jaw tightened angrily. "I've just been solving _murder_ cases for the entire city of San Francisco."

With that, he put the phone back on its hook. He ground his teeth, angrily, furious at himself for thinking he could make them understand, to think that they would actually _see _what important and impressive work he was now doing with his life. How he had actually been called a _hero_...a hero!

How Trudy...had winked at him. He would concentrate on that, he decided. He would think about Trudy Ellison, and how pretty she was. How he had made her laugh...somehow.

He let out a small chuckle that slowly drew into a sad whine. Who was he fooling? Trudy was so far out of his league, it wasn't even worth contemplating. It would be like any other pretty girl he had admired...it wouldn't go much further than that. It would end like all the others, with her giving him the friendly wink and a smile, before moving on to some strapping man more worthy of her affections.

His eyes drifted towards the picture in the newspaper...the one that still sat carefully and neatly on his tabletop. It was fun to pretend in his head, but it would be less painful to just accept the reality of the matter. Girls like Trudy did not take an interest in guys like him.

The next morning, Adrian tried to force himself to be slightly more cheerful. It was another day on the case, and he had a chance to really prove himself to both Stottlemeyer and the entire department.

As he made his perfectly square pancakes, (cutting off the sides so that every inch of it was symmetrical), he tried to run over the other clues he had seen at the crime scene...he tried to piece them together in his mind...like playing an extremely complicated jigsaw puzzle.

But somehow his eyes had once more drifted towards that black and white picture of Trudy on his table. He usually recycled the newspaper every morning, only leaving the newest edition neatly folded on his tabletop. But somehow, this morning he couldn't bring himself to throw her picture away. Her smile was too beautiful to be recycled...

He felt his fingers subconsciously move to her business card in his pocket. These were different pants that he had worn yesterday, but he had brought her business card just in case. Just in case, the department needed it, of course...

As it turned out, the department might have needed it more than Adrian had originally imagined that they would. Stottlemeyer was quick to greet him, carrying with him some very interesting information.

"The victim is a woman named Lyla Daniels. Guess what else?" Stottlemeyer placed the case file into Adrian's hands. "She just got a two million dollar payoff from the contracting company she worked with. Said the repairs they did on her house led to a cave in, which, in turn led her to be confined to a wheelchair. Now, five days later she's gunned down in a parking lot in an apparent hit and run. Whattya think?"

"That's certainly a lot of money." Adrian nodded, grimly, his eyes scanning the case file intensely.

"And a whole lotta motive." Stottlemeyer agreed, chewing thoughtfully at the toothpick in his mouth. "But who had the motive?"

"That is the question..." Adrian mused, gazing up at Stottlemeyer intently. "Isn't it?"

Stottlemeyer nodded, his hands placed nonchalantly in his pockets. "Yeah, unfortunately I gotta go to the press with this. The _Tribune _has been calling nonstop. Apparently your no comment answers did not satisfy their journalistic curiosity."

"Has...has Trudy been calling?" Adrian blurted out; hardly aware of what it was he was saying and _who _it was he was asking.

"_Trudy_?" Stottlemeyer asked, his eyebrow cocked in amusement.

"She...she was one of the journalists there yesterday." Adrian shrugged, trying to act as if his curiosity over the matter hadn't been very consequential. "She wanted me to call...if we were going to release the story. I—I mean, I promised to call her first."

"You promised one of those rookie reporters you'd call her first?" Stottlemeyer snorted, now extremely amused. "You got a lot to learn about handling the press, Monk."

Adrian swallowed. He didn't want to press the issue, but still...her hopeful, trusting blue eyes..._believing _him. "But—but will you?"

"Will I what?"

"Call her first? I—I mean, it's only that I promised...sir."

Stottlemeyer hesitated before giving a small chuckle. He rolled his eyes and threw a hand in the air. "Fine. Call your rookie reporter. Far be it from me to tarnish your unblemished honesty." But his eyes were filled with amusement, and Adrian deducted that he was most likely joking with him. "But after she gets her scoop, I'm contacting the real press for a release, alright?"

"Of course, sir." Adrian nodded, dutifully. As soon as Stottlemeyer was out of range, Adrian reached for the phone that sat on his desk. His hands hesitated inches from it, and he was extremely embarrassed to release that they were slightly trembling. His cheeks flushing red, he quickly picked up the telephone, punching the numbers on the business card from memory.

It rung several times until the familiar, musical voice answered. "_San Francisco Tribune_, Trudy Ellison speaking."

"Ms...Ms. Ellison. It's me..." Adrian cleared his throat, hoping to make it a little deeper and confident in tone. "It's me...Adrian Monk. We talked yesterday...you probably don't remember..."

"Adrian!" Trudy exclaimed from the other end, and a warm feeling surged into Adrian, when he realized, that she did, in fact, remember their conversation from yesterday. "You got a scoop for me, Adrian?"

"Yes." Adrian replied, finally relieved that there was something he could talk about clearly and confidently. "The victim was a woman named Lyla Daniels. She lived on North Vinton St. She was killed in an apparent hit and run but now we think may have been premeditated."

Adrian went on to explain the rest of the case to Trudy, pausing only to listen to her beautiful "mmms" and "mmm hmmms" as he heard her pencil scribble hurriedly on her notepad paper.

When he finished explaining the case, he paused nervously. He wasn't sure what to say now, as everything he had planned to say had already been explained, and now he dreaded the awkward silence that would follow.

"Thank you so much, Adrian!" Her musical voice intoned, perhaps not noticing his awkward pausing at his end. "I'm going to get on this story right away. I can't even begin to describe how grateful I am. This is my _first _story."

"You—you deserve it." Adrian replied, his eyes focused on the case folder lying across his desk. "Good...good luck, Ms. Ellison."

"Please," She began, and he could almost see her smiling from her office at the _Tribune_. "Call me Trudy."

"Trudy." He breathed out, and he was only slightly aware of the heartbeat drumming in his ears as he gripped tighter onto the phone.

"Well...take care, Adrian."

"Yeah...bye." Adrian placed the phone back down, his head tilting slightly to one side. He noticed that his breathing had become subconsciously shallower. She even sounded beautiful over the phone. And she had asked him to call her Trudy...

_What a beautiful name. Trudy._

Adrian shuffled the paperwork on his desk, thoughtfully, still remembering how truly grateful she had sounded to him...how she had asked him to call her Trudy...

"You actually are going to handle the paperwork today?" Joe asked, drawing Adrian out of his swirling thoughts and back to reality.

"No..." Adrian murmured, half to himself, placing the paperwork over in Joe's hands without much thought. "Trudy." He mused, still in awe that he had been deemed worthy to call her by her first name...her _beautiful _first name...

"Who?" Joe demanded, looking over the paperwork that Adrian had handed him.

"Oh...nothing..." He shrugged, his fingers now nervously drumming on the table. "Just the journalist..."

"Oh, the blond." Joe nodded, knowingly. "She was pretty cute. Trudy, right?"

Adrian nodded, his eyes now focused on the opposite corner of the room. "Yeah...yeah...her name is Trudy."

"I never seen you worked up about a girl before, Monk." Joe grinned, slapping his partner across the back. "_Any _girl, now that I think about it."

Adrian gave a small smile in return but gave his head a small shake. "I'm not..._worked _up." He explained, giving his shoulders a small, fidgety roll. "I'm—I'm not worked up."

"Yeah, okay." Joe smiled, giving him another pat on the back. "You should ask her out, buddy. Really. Girls that cute don't stay on the market very long."

"Yeah. Me ask her out." Adrian gave a grimace before shaking his head. He cocked his head towards Joe. "That might be one of the worst ideas you've ever had."

"Monk!" Stottlemeyer called from across the room of the police station, causing several officers to stop what they were doing to listen. "You done calling your girl reporter so that I can make a real press release?"

"Yes, sir." Adrian mumbled, sinking lower into his chair. He could feel the eyes watching him from around the room and he knew exactly what they were thinking. How could he, Adrian Monk, have any girl even remotely interested in him?

And perhaps the most upsetting thing was that he knew they were right.

It was a couple of hours later, and the homicide unit was back at the crime scene, to inspect some of the more suspicious areas as well as try and narrow down the suspects that would have the motive to kill Lyla Daniels.

Adrian bent down, noticing where the wheelchair had been marked as falling. He shook his head; something was definitely not right with that piece of evidence.

Stottlemeyer cocked his head to one side. "You got something, Monk?"

"Do you see where the wheelchair had fallen? The trajectory angle is all wrong..." Something seemed to dawn on Adrian, as he lifted his head slowly towards his watch commander. "I think...I think she didn't really need that wheelchair at all. Unless I'm wrong...and, you know, I'm _not_...I think she left it here...left it here and ran...trying to avoid being hit by the Volvo."

"What? Monk...there's documented evidence...we have a doctor's note. Mrs. Daniels _did _need that wheelchair." Stottlemeyer replied, briskly.

Adrian shook his head, still not pleased with this answer. He could feel his mind working clearly, some of the rare times it did not feel fogged with frustration and obsessive compulsions, which is why he so loved working these cases. "She was married...I noticed a wedding ring."

"Yeah, she was married. Her husband's a suspect, but he has a pretty airtight alibi. He was out bowling all night; there were tons of witnesses."

"Well, maybe she had an accomplice." Adrian mumbled, holding his hands out in front of him as he studied the crime scene with intense brown eyes.

"An accomplice? In _what_?"

"In staging her accident...and taking the two million dollar lawsuit money..." Adrian replied, his eyes glancing up to meet Stottlemeyer's.

Stottlemeyer shook his head. "No, no, Monk, forget it. Look, I gave you some leeway on this case because of the whole Patterson thing, but you gotta stop saying that. That is not a remotely reasonable conclusion."

"But—but isn't this why you brought me along?" Adrian pressed, trying to get him to understand. That he was _right_, he was always right, it was part of his gift...and curse. "To find things the others couldn't?"

Stottlemeyer gave a short laugh and shook his head. "I brought you along because you got potential, Monk. I wanted you to get your feet wet on a pretty tough case. But you can't keep going in that direction, okay? We have facts. We have facts laid out in front of us. Let's follow the facts, right. _Right_?"

Adrian nodded his head slowly. Then he slowly lifted his gaze, and for one of the rare times in his life, he felt a bit of confidence surge through him. "I'm—I'm...I _really_ think I'm right this time, sir."

"I'm sorry, Monk." Stottlemeyer shook his head. "There's just too much conclusive evidence showing that Mrs. Daniels was legitimately injured. That's it now. Don't—don't bring it up again. We already got the press involved, we don't have margin for error now. You understand me, Monk?"

"Yes...sir." Adrian replied, his eyes still intently focused on where the wheelchair had fallen. It was impossible..._impossible_...


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note: Thank you to everyone who has reviewed and/or added this story to their favorites! I am so happy to see that people are enjoying it!**

**Chapter 3**

"You really think Mrs. Daniels didn't need a wheelchair?" Joe asked, as he and Adrian had lunch together at a small downtown café.

"I'm...ninety-five percent sure." Adrian nodded, his hands fidgeting nervously under the table. "Ninety-five percent."

"But Stottlemeyer won't believe you, huh?"

"He said," Adrian shook his head, frustrated. "That we need to follow the _facts_."

"Yeah, but you're like a regular Sherlock Holmes." Joe shrugged, taking a bite of his ham sandwich. "I think Stottlemeyer is worried."

Adrian gave a derisive chuckle. "Worried?"

"Yeah. You're probably smarter than him...you ever think about that?" Joe shrugged again, taking another bite of his sandwich...this time leaving a smear of mustard on his chin. "He's probably worried you'll get promoted so fast you'll overtake him someday."

Adrian shook his head, trying not to obsess over the mustard smear. "What? I'm—I'm sorry, what did you say?"

"I said...hey whatta you doin'?" Joe demanded, backing up as Adrian leaned forward to try and dab the mustard off of his chin.

"Sorry—mustard..." He grimaced, his body giving a small, involuntary shudder.

"Yeah, yeah, I can get that myself. Jeez, who are you, my mother?"

"Sorry." Adrian replied, his eyes averting to his shoes in embarrassment...and the fact that he couldn't bear to look at the mustard smear any longer. "So—so what do you think I should do? I mean, about—about the case...not the...mus...tard..." He trailed off, his gaze shooting back up to the offending condiment.

"Well, even if you're right, you should probably back off. I mean, Stottlemeyer can make you or break you right now. At our stage of the game, it's better to play by the rules and stick our necks out only once we got more job security...right?"

"Right." Adrian muttered, still darkly eyeing Joe's chin. His mind nagged at him incessantly. "Oh, for god's sakes...it's right there! Just _wipe _it!"

The next morning, Adrian walked into the precinct ready to follow Joe's advice. He wasn't going to stick his neck out; he was going to follow orders. He was going to forget his mind, constantly spinning, constantly bothering him about the evidence that didn't make sense...always bothering him...bothering him...

"Monk!" Stottlemeyer cried, his face beet red and Adrian could tell he had been fuming long before his arrival. "I got the deputy commissioner in here telling me that he's heard officers saying that we're on some wild goose chase with this case...talking about your _theory _yesterday. I thought I talked to you about that."

"You did, sir, I—I didn't..."

"Look, Monk, I put you on this case because..." Stottlemeyer gritted his teeth, his blue eyes burning angrily. "Because I _trusted _you. I hope I didn't misplace my trust."

Adrian took a step back, feeling confusion sweep over him. He hadn't said anything to anyone but Joe about his theory yesterday...and he had trusted Joe. He concluded that they must've been overheard by the other officers at the crime scene yesterday. They must've been talking about crazy Adrian...crazy, awkward, strange...sad...Adrian...

"Adrian!" The voice drew him out of his sudden bask of self-pity as he gazed up in the direction it had been coming from. It was...it was _her_...how could it have been her?

"Trudy?" He whispered, almost believing that it was a desperate mirage, and not the beautiful woman who had been stealing his thoughts for the past few days. "What—what are you doing here?"

"Well, thanks to _your _scoop I was assigned the lead journalist on the Lyla Daniels case." Trudy replied, her blue eyes sparkling with excitement. "I decided to come down to the department for some first-hand stories."

"You—you look nice." Adrian stammered, shocked and horrified at the words that had found their way out of his mouth. He took in a shaky breath...nervous he had offended her...

But Trudy simply flashed him one of her beautiful smiles. She gave a slight sway where she stood; he noticed how her soft, silken skirt clung to her legs. "Thank you."

He watched her; amazed that he was this close to her again. She was _beautiful_. Everything about her. He loved how long and golden her hair was, how it bounced around her slender frame, her soft sapphire blue eyes that seemed to go on for an eternity, her soft white blouse...her silky skirt that hugged her body...that pretty...pretty smile...

"Well, I haven't seen _you _around here before."

Much to Adrian's dismay, Officer Tom Johnson approached the two of them, his eyes having a devilish shine to them. Adrian had never particularly liked Tom; he was a very flashy man who was a notorious womanizer. He _was _decidedly good-looking with brown hair and blue eyes and a strong build, but he had a rather mean sense of humor which included putting others down...mostly, those _others _were Adrian.

"Is _he_," Tom gave Adrian a rather pointed look. "Bothering you?"

"No, not at all." Trudy replied quickly, giving Adrian a soft smile that quickly melted his insides.

"Well, I have to warn you, he can be a real winner." Tom gave a nonchalant smile. "Was it just _last _week you freaked out and vacuumed the entire office, Adrian? Because...I think it was a plant—yeah a potted plant—that tipped over?"

Adrian's neck burned red and he clenched his teeth. He tried to come up with a clever and witty comeback...something that would really floor Tom...but he only found that he had been left with a very flustered, and very unhelpful, mind.

"I'm Tom. Tom Johnson." Tom flashed Trudy a smile, giving her a small wink. _A wink! _"What's your name?"

"Trudy Ellison." Trudy nodded, politely. Adrian felt his heart give a hopeful flutter as he noticed—at least he _thought_ he notice—her try and capture his intense brown gaze again.

"Trudy Ellison. You here for the _Tribune_?"

"Mmmm." He couldn't have been imagining it this time—she was trying to catch his gaze. She had just done it again...hadn't she?

Adrian cursed his usually observant mind. How could a mind that noticed the _slightest_ inconsistencies at crime scenes, suddenly be unable to tell if a woman was trying to catch his eye or not?

"I could give you a scoop on the Daniels case. I typed up one of the files."

"Interesting." Adrian snapped, grateful he had suddenly found something to retort back. "Because I'm actually _working_ on that case and..."

"So how about it? I'll tell you all you need to know, _if_..." Tom let it hang, ominously in Adrian's opinion, before concluding, "If you go to lunch with me."

"Alright." Trudy relented, pocketing her notepad and pencil. She cast a glance in Adrian's direction. "Thanks again, Adrian."

Adrian pursed his lips as a sinking feeling hit his stomach. He suddenly felt as if he had been punched in the gut. He had waited too long again..._again_...and someone more confident and strapping than he had swept the girl away.

But this just hadn't been a _girl_...it hadn't been just any girl. It had been...Trudy...

Adrian felt his blood boil, as he noticed—_now _his mind was being annoyingly observant—that Tom's eyes were _very _unchastely watching Trudy's retreating form, almost undressing her with his dirty, nasty eyes.

He couldn't treat her like that. No one could treat her like that. She was in a class all of her own and no one had the right to even _look_ at her with a single impure thought in their mind.

Adrian felt his face flush red as he seethed. He had let her get away. He might see her around, but she'd be with Tom. She'd be Tom's girl now, and he would treat her poorly. He would _look_ at her and think..._dirty_ thoughts...

It was later that night and Adrian was alone in his apartment room again. He was used to being alone. Even when he lived with his mother and brother, he had felt that he had truly been alone. He had been alone all his life.

He placed his hand across his face and sighed out deeply. He was sitting on his couch with Channel 10 on, but it the television was muted. Sometimes he liked watching the television muted, the people on the TV would smile, and he could pretend they might've been smiling at him...

He shook his head and blinked his eyes quickly. He had meant to make a new life for himself by leaving his childhood home. As deeply as he loved his mother and brother, and he truly did, he also had to escape from them. There was a part of him, a part that pained him to admit it, that believed they were holding him back; pulling him back into that painful and torturous existence that was that childhood home. The home where his dad had left. The home where his study still loomed painfully...

Adrian gave another heavy blink and this time tears streaked down his cheeks. He thought he was better than his mother and brother. He did. As much as he loved them, and as terrible as he felt about himself most days...there was no hope for either of them, so entrenched were they in that _house_. He..._he _was called a hero...if he could _just _remember that...if he could fight the darkness and depression that continually threatened to cloud his mind...the obsessive compulsions that drove him to deep frustration and distraction...if he could just remember that newspaper clipping...the one that said, _Adrian Monk, SFPD Hero_.

It was that house, that depressing house. Being alone in this apartment was better than being with three people in _that _house.

He shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts. He glanced down at his hands. They were raw and rough from all the scrubbing he had done tonight while washing the dishes. The intensive cleaning he had put them through, plus the scalding heat he had used for the water, had led them to crack and bleed. It hadn't been a good night...for his mind.

Hearing Stottlemeyer distrust him, _dislike _him proved that he could only go so far, make so much of an inroad with people, before he was once again universally disliked.

And seeing...seeing Trudy go off with Officer Tom. He didn't know why that had upset him so much. He had known that was how it would end. He knew she would never..._could_ never...feel all the things for him that she stirred up within him.

He closed his eyes and allowed his mind to drift...to imagine what it would like to be with Trudy. He imagined holding her small hand in his much larger one. He imagined talking to her, learning all about her. He imagined stroking her long golden hair gently. He imagined holding her...holding her closer than he had dared to hold anyone else before. He imagined...kissing...those soft lips...

He slowly opened his eyes and sighed. A love like that was not meant for him. He would never experience what it was like to love a girl...for a girl to _love _him. To love him, every part of him, even the parts he himself hated so much...

She had winked at him.

It had meant something, he was sure of it. She wasn't the kind of girl that would just go around winking at every guy she saw. Maybe she _had _felt something...something small that day she winked at him...

But he hadn't acted fast enough. He hadn't winked back. He hadn't...done whatever it was most people knew how to do _naturally_ but always eluded him in social situations.

She was gone now. Adrian rose from his seat on the couch and walked back into his dining room. There, there sitting on the table, was that picture. That beautiful black and white picture of Trudy Ellison. Her smile...her beautiful smile...

But as hard as he tried, unlike the people on the television, he couldn't pretend that it was him that she was smiling at. He was too broken...too _him_...to ever deserve that smile...

He looked around his apartment wildly, looking for something to save him from the darkness that was again seeping into him. His dark brown eyes caught the mirror, caught his intense gaze within that reflection.

He looked deep into that reflection. And he saw more than his own image, it was as if he was looking into his own perpetually troubled mind, his own tortured soul and existence.

And he knew it didn't matter where he escaped to. A person cannot escape from themselves. With that thought, Adrian sank down onto the seat near the table and buried his head into his arms. All the darkness and frustration he had battled all night flushed forth, and he wept bitterly, Trudy's smiling picture only inches away.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

"What is Tom doing over there with _your _girl?" Joe whispered to Adrian the next day by their desk. Trudy had come back for some follow-up questions to the case and Tom was showing her around the department.

The case itself was winding down to just being a hit-and-run. The police had found a green Volvo belonging to a college student who admitted to driving drunk that night, but not to hitting anyone. It wasn't much of an alibi though, and the case was wrapping up pretty uneventfully.

"I hate that creep." Joe sneered; trying to give Tom the evil eye every time he passed by. "You can't let him take your girl like that."

Adrian gave a forced chuckle but it came out sounding more pained than he had meant. "She's...she's not my girl. We talked...maybe twice...three times..."

_Three beautiful times_.

"Well, I don't like it. You were talking to that girl, I saw it. Who does Tom think _he _is?" Joe replied, still trying to give Tom a disapproving look.

"He thinks he's more of a man than me." Adrian mumbled under his breath, trying his hardest not to look up and see the sight of Tom that near beautiful Trudy. "He's probably right."

"Well, I don't think so, man." Joe muttered, slapping Adrian across the back. "I've seen the way some of these girls look at you, Monk. You've got something...animal magnetism."

"_What_?" Adrian demanded, quite certain nothing could have been further from the truth. "Animal..._what_...I don't even know what that means."

"All I know is every time Tom comes by here that Trudy girl keeps glancing over towards this desk." Joe responded, comfortingly. "I think she might be walking around with Tom, but she's trying to catch someone _else's _eye."

"No." Adrian exhaled deeply, trying to keep the hope from seeping into his mind. Hope was always the worst. "No...no, no."

"Hi, Adrian." Her musical voice pierced his dark thoughts, and he couldn't believe that she was still..._still_...wanting to talk to him.

"Trudy." He murmured, daring to lift his eyes only slightly.

"Tom's showing me around the department." She explained, giving him her gentle smile. "You know, I was hoping I'd run into you."

Adrian gave a hard swallow. "You—you _were_?"

Tom gave Adrian a dirty look before placing a hand on Trudy's arm. Adrian pursed his lips, feeling the blood pound in his ears. "Come on, Trudy, I was just about to show you _my _office."

But Trudy resisted his pull, instead staying planted near Adrian's desk. "Yeah, I was wondering how the case was going."

"We're narrowing in on a suspect. It's probably just a hit and run." Adrian shrugged, the words even tasting bad in his mouth.

Trudy raised an eyebrow, uncertainly. "I thought I heard there might've been some conspiracy going on..."

"Yeah, that was just Adrian." Tom replied, his voice filled with sarcasm, as he quickly tried to pull Trudy away from the desk again. "He comes up with some _real_ good ones."

For a moment, Tom and Adrian exchanged dark glances, and Adrian could feel his anger towards this man slowly rising.

"Why is everyone saying there is a reporter _still _in this police department? Did _I _authorize that?" Stottlemeyer demanded, walking briskly out of his office. His eyes found Trudy, and he took a step back, giving an uncomfortable swallow. "Oh...I didn't know you were right there." He nodded his head, a little embarrassed. "I'm sorry, ma'am, but we're in the middle of an investigation. If you wouldn't mind..."

"Of course." Trudy shouldered her purse and gave Stottlemeyer a bright smile. "Good luck with the case, sir. I've read about your work before, it's an honor to finally meet you in person."

Stottlemeyer cocked his head to one side, obviously impressed. "Now that's a reporter that might just be welcome back. Take note."

Trudy turned to back to Tom, who was flushed with embarrassment from Stottlemeyer's outburst...he had clearly invited her over without the watch commander's permission. "Thanks for showing me around, Tom; I really want to be on good terms with the SFPD."

"Hey," Tom said, reaching out to brush his fingers across her shoulders. Adrian closed his eyes tightly rather than watch the action. "I never got that home phone number."

Trudy shook her head and sighed. Apparently Tom had been bothering her for this number for most of the day. "Fine. It's 555-956-7865."

"Excellent." Tom smiled, scribbling down the phone number on his left hand. "You will be hearing from me very soon."

Adrian, whose eyes were still tightly shut, finally slipped one open just a pinch. She was _so _beautiful. She was so beautiful and now she was walking away...walking away and Tom had her phone number...

But he wasn't the only one with her phone number.

"Trudy..." He called, his voice bursting forth from him with sudden desperation. He finally was able to pry his eyes open. His hands were shaking uncontrollably; he forced them under the desk so that she could not see them. "Trudy, I'd like to ask you a question."

Trudy cocked her head to one side, her eyes still filled with that beautiful sincerity. Her pretty lips gave him a small smile. "Yes, Adrian?"

"I...I just have something...I'd like to ask you." He tried to swallow, but there was a heavy lump gathering in his throat. "If...well, I—I mean, let's say I uncover something about the case. And—and it's night...so you won't be in your office..."

Trudy's face went from being slightly confused to beaming with understanding. "You want my home phone number?"

"No...no, I have your home number." He tried to swallow past that lump now, blinking quickly. His head jerked as his shoulder twitched. He pointed to his head dismissively. "I—I remember everything I hear...too."

Trudy watched him intently, and Adrian almost noted something in that beautiful face of hers...was she _impressed_? Did he just impress her?

She parted her lips, wetting them ever so slightly. Adrian felt so drawn to her at this moment, so strong was his desire to get to know her more...

"I just wanted permission to call it." He clarified, his voice now coming out like a raspy whisper with his whole body now giving an involuntary tremor.

"Of...of course you..." Trudy began, her voice also coming out as a raspy whisper. She cleared her throat, hurriedly. "Of course you can. Any—anytime."

They stared into each other's eyes for what felt like hours to Adrian. He seemed to have some sort of hold on her...as if the intense gaze of his dark, dark eyes were somehow stirring something in her that he had felt all along.

"Well," She broke the beautiful silence, her eyes giving him one last arresting gaze before she looked away. "I better get going. Bye, Adrian.

"Goodbye, Trudy." He murmured, and he felt a real smile work its way across his face as he gave her a little wave.

As she turned to leave, Tom turned to face Adrian, his face still bright red as he ground his teeth furiously. "I'll walk you back to your car, Trudy." He called, his eyes still watching Adrian intently. "Better luck next time, Monk."

"Yes," Adrian said, his eyes still watching Trudy as she swayed away from him, her hips moving back and forth, her skirt twirling around her beautiful form... "Maybe you will have better luck next time."

Tom took a step back as if Adrian had slapped him across the face. "_What _did you just say to me, Monk?"

"I said..." Adrian felt his voice grow stronger, as he took his gaze away from Trudy. He focused his intense dark eyes on Tom's furious face and took in a deep breath. "Maybe _you _will have better luck next time."

Tom stared at him dumbfounded as Joe Christy began to snort appreciatively in the corner. Spluttering incoherently, Tom turned on his heels and left to follow Trudy.

"I told you that you were a ladies' man, Monk." Joe laughed, his eyes filled with satisfaction. "You just didn't know it yet."

Adrian rose to his feet, and walked past the still pleased Joe Christy, and headed towards the bathroom. He walked as if he were in a stupor, not noticing any of the other people around him. All he could remember was the way she had _looked_ at him and the way that had made him feel inside...

He splashed his face with cold water, staring up into the mirror. Who was he really? Was he the weak, timid, half-functioning man he usually felt that he was? Or was he...the hero, the detective who _knew _what he was doing, the man that...the man that might have actually impressed beautiful Trudy Ellison today.


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's Note: Thank you SO much to everyone who has been reading/reviewing this story! I appreciate it so much!**

**Chapter 5**

No less than fifteen minutes later, Adrian sat on the edge of his seat at the table at _Sunny's Café_. He was beginning to worry that maybe he was a little overdressed...after all, he was wearing his suit and tie. That probably wasn't right...but all he could think about while he was dressing were Ambrose's words of ladies enjoying it when a man dressed sharp.

He glanced around the room nervously...the other four people who were in the café were dressed very casually...he dropped his head to his chest in disappointment.

"I'm _not _glad to be me right now." He mumbled, burying his head into his arms on the table.

He glanced at his watch and sighed, anxiously. It had now been sixteen minutes since their phone call. Trudy had obviously thought better of meeting with him. Yes, ladies liked good guys. But they liked _guys_...as in men. Not the three fourths of a man he was.

He looked down at the table he was sitting at. There were salt crystals scattered all over the table. With a disgusted look on his face, he picked up a napkin and began sweeping the grains of salt into a little corner where they could be properly disposed of.

The door opened but Adrian was still too engrossed in cleaning up the café table. He wiped his napkin across the table to scoop up the crystals, but the closing of the door had sent a gust of wind that swept the napkin out of his hand.

"Ahhh!" Adrian cried, in frustration. Grabbing another clean napkin, he slid out of his seat and squatted down to the floor to pick up the fallen napkin.

"Are you okay?"

Adrian hesitated. Two white flat high heels suddenly were in his line of vision. He trailed his eyes upwards, seeing slender legs that led to a sweeping blue skirt, a pullover red shirt, and...a familiarly beautiful face...

"Trudy!" Adrian gasped, leaping to his feet. "I—I didn't expect you here...so late..."

"Yeah, I'm sorry, I decided to freshen up." Trudy smiled, and Adrian could tell that she had curled her long golden hair for their meeting tonight. It made him feel slightly better for being here in a suit and tie.

"You look...really nice." He swallowed, hurrying to pull out a chair for her. "Please, sit down."

"Thank you, Adrian." She flashed him another gorgeous smile; her blue eyes sparkling even more than he had previously remembered. "You look great."

"R—really?" He asked, tugging at his tie nervously, still feeling that he hadn't gotten it perfectly straight.

"Yeah, very sharp." She said...giving him _another _wink.

She had winked again.

It hadn't been a mistake the first time. She had meant it. She had done it again.

Adrian sat down rather hurriedly, his hands still fidgeting with his neck tie. "You're probably wondering why I asked you here..."

"Oh, I thought you said it was to get my journalistic opinion." She gave him an encouraging nod. "That's what you said over the phone. I must say, I'm very flattered. I don't know how much help I can be, but..."

"We—we can talk about the case anytime." Adrian shrugged, dismissively. "I wanted to talk about..._you_."

Trudy sat back a little, a bit of surprise shining in her soft blue gaze. She gave a gentle laugh. "Well...what about me?"

"You're a journalist..." Adrian gave a soft chuckle. "That's all I know. Oh...and that you're twenty-three...went to Berkeley like me...and thought _Back to the Future_ was the best picture film of the year. Other than that...nothing."

"You really do have a good memory." Trudy smiled, resting her elbows on the table and placing her chin in her hands. "You went to Berkeley?"

"All four years." Adrian replied, proudly. "It's great there, isn't it?"

Trudy gave a small shrug. "I learned a lot from there."

Adrian gave a soft chuckle, almost daring to relax an inch. "And...?"

Trudy laughed, shaking her head. "And..?"

"What else?" Adrian pressed, now feeling a smile work its way onto his face. "I mean—just from sitting here I can tell you couldn't decide between the red shirt or the blue shirt...you snagged the blue shirt in your hurry to put it away...a piece of blue string is still stuck in the corner of yours nails...freshly painted, of course."

Trudy laughed again, the sound warming him all over. "You..._you _are an exceptional detective." She gave him a fairly curious look. "I read about you, you know. I hear they think you're a big hero."

Adrian shrugged. "Maybe at first. Not anymore. I got too...unconventional."

"Some people like unconventional." She murmured, her voice low and thoughtful. She straightened up in her seat and gave him another wink. "Okay, _since _you're so curious, I'll tell you some things about me. I'm an only child. I _love _Willie Nelson. My parents live in Los Angeles but I moved out here when I was offered a position with the _San Francisco Tribune_."

"Willie Nelson?" He asked curiously, a pit settling in his stomach. Was this some boyfriend he didn't realize she already had?

"Yeah, you haven't heard of him?" She gave a soft chuckle and blushed. "I guess he's not exactly Madonna or Sting, is he? But...his music just really speaks to me. I'll play you a tape sometime; I think you'd like it."

"Oh...oh he's a singer!" Adrian breathed out, relief filling him. "I'm partial to the...Various Artists."

Trudy gave another laugh, it was such a loud sound that it almost startled him. He never imagined such a little woman would have such a loud laugh...he found it endearing.

"_You _are very funny." She smiled, reaching over to pat his hand. Her touch left scorching warmth against him.

He gave a nervous chuckle...between her touch and being called funny he was surprised at how this night was going.

The waiter stopped by and gave them their coffee; they thanked him before turning back to their conversation.

"So," She began blowing on her coffee before sipping it. "What's the Adrian Monk story?"

Adrian's head gave a nervous jerk; his left shoulder did an involuntary roll. Where to start...his father leaving him at eight...being mocked and degraded throughout his school years...the obsessive compulsive disorder rising stronger and stronger the older he became...longing for friends and love but finding nothing but darkness and hopelessness...

"I—I have a brother. Named Ambrose...and a Mom...I have a Mom." He explained, his fingers tapping the tabletop nervously. "I'm a detective...I _just _got my own apartment. I really like it there. It's...it's the first place that's been mine. On my own."

"Me too." She nodded, eagerly. "Isn't it a little scary? I know I was scared...my mom and dad didn't like me going so far away...but working for the _Tribune_..." She gave a happy shiver. "It was like a dream come true, you know? Plus...it's nice to have fresh starts."

Adrian nodded, agreeing with every word she spoke. His eyes scanned every inch of her beautiful face; trying desperately to memorize it. "I love fresh starts."

Trudy blushed slightly, and Adrian diverted his gaze, hoping he wasn't staring at her too intently. Trudy cleared her throat and gave her golden mane a small swish.

"So...so what about the case? I _assume_ that was the reason I was asked down here." She teased him, her eyes sparkling. "Unless you had an ulterior motive."

"No...no, no, no..." Adrian shook his head, quickly, hoping she was not beginning to get the wrong idea. "I—I'm a good guy."

Trudy gave him a small smile. "I appreciate that, Adrian." She reached out again, her hand now placed on top of his, and he felt the temperature in the room begin to climb. "Now, you told me on the phone you figured something out about the case. Tell me."

Adrian nodded, he lifted his hands to preface his thoughts, now that he was thinking about the case they had stopped trembling. "I've been thinking...Lyla Daniel's doctor note that she was injured...the doctor who wrote the note...Dr. Robert Jonas...what if he was involved somehow? If I only I could talk to him..."

"Dr. Robert Jonas?" Trudy demanded, placing her napkin down on her table. "He lives right across from me. In my apartment building!"

Adrian sat back in his chair, his mind reeling. "What can you tell me about him?"

"He keeps to himself a lot." She shrugged, but her eyes were now filled with a passionate fire...the same fire he saw in himself whenever he was on a case. "He'd always leave a lot...and at very odd hours. Sometimes at one...two in the morning. I've never really talked to him very much, come to think about it."

"Could...you think _I _could talk to him?"

"Yeah, sure." Trudy nodded vigorously. "Stop by my apartment tomorrow, I can introduce you and you can poke around if you need to."

"Good...good..." He murmured, his mind now working quickly. He glanced back up at her, realizing the one flaw in that plan. "I—I don't know where you live."

"We can stop by there tonight." She explained, giving him a soft smile. "When you walk me back, right?"

"S—sure." He stammered, giving her a smile back. "You want to go now?"

Trudy rummaged through her purse and placed what she owed on the table. "Sure, come on, it's just down the street."

Adrian and Trudy walked down the nighttime San Francisco streets; they moved in comfortable silence, with Adrian ever so aware that Trudy was very dangerously close to him...every now and then her shoulder would brush up against him...sending shivers to run pleasantly down his spine.

She was so beautiful...but after tonight he realized that she was also kind and gentle-hearted. He never imagined he could ever be in this position...their shoulders brushing with every step...after having spent an evening together.

"Well, here it is." She smiled, and he noticed her reach out...she grabbed his suit jacket at the arm and pulled him forward. He felt an exhilarating swoop go through his stomach. "I'm on the third floor."

"Third..._third _floor...we're—we're...going up?" Adrian demanded in shock. He eyed the elevator nervously. He gave a heavy swallow, his whole body giving an involuntary shudder.

"Yeah, I just want to show you what room he's in for tomorrow." Trudy explained, now pulling him inside the apartment and towards the elevator.

"Well—well—here's the thing..." He began, grimacing apologetically. The elevator was ominously inching closer. "I—I don't do elevators...very much...I like—I like exercise."

Trudy gave him a small, knowing smile. "We can take the stairs, Adrian."

Adrian nodded, gratefully, before a terrible thought struck him. He suddenly realized what that knowing smile had meant. "Tom...he told you things about me... didn't he?"

"He tried to." She admitted, as they began to ascend the first flight of stairs. "I wouldn't listen to him. Everyone has quirks."

"Did he say what it was that I have...?" Adrian gave a hard swallow, trying to blink back the glassiness that threatened to enter his eyes. He could hardly speak the words; to speak the name of his disorder made it all the more real in front of Trudy. "That I have...?" The words failed on his lips.

Trudy was silent for a moment before turning to him, but instead of disgust or pity...he saw a deep and real compassion. "I don't care." She replied, firmly.

"You—you don't care?"

"Not at all." She reached out and took his hand in hers...and for a moment he felt as if his heart had stopped beating altogether.

No one...no one had reached out to take his hand before. He had never held hands with anyone before in his life. And now this woman...the most beautiful woman he had ever seen in his life...was holding his hand in hers. It was so..._so _intimate. It was the most intimate thing he had ever done before, and it both scared and amazed him.

"You know what I have to do?" She gave a small laugh, giving his hand a squeeze and sending his mind reeling. "I _have _to count every stroke of butter I put on my toast in the morning. I don't know why. Ever since I was a kid...isn't that funny?"

Adrian shook his head...he didn't think that was funny. He also had an affinity for counting. They were now on step fifty-three, after all. "I count." He admitted, as they finally reached the third floor.

"And...and sometimes I just start dancing." She continued to laugh, a red tinge spreading across her cheeks from the long trek up the stairs. "No matter what I'm doing, if I have my radio playing. If a song I like comes on, I'll just drop everything and start dancing."

Adrian joined her in laughter; the image of a carefree, dancing Trudy was a wonderful thing to picture. "Wow...you need help." He teased, her effort to make him feel more normal had worked...he felt his confidence returning.

"There's Dr. Robert Jonas's apartment." She whispered, pointing to Room 301. "And here's mine, right across from his. You—you want to stop in for a moment? I could play you one of those Willie Nelson tapes."

The prospect of being alone with Trudy in her apartment room caused Adrian to fidget nervously. He hardly knew what was expected of people during...whatever it was they were on...it wasn't a proper _date_...and he feared he would somehow destroy all that he had accomplished tonight.

"I—I should get going." He shrugged, nervously. "I'm—I'm a good guy."

Trudy blushed furiously, but kept her pretty smile. "You don't think I'm a good girl?"

"Oh...oh, no—no, I...I didn't mean _that_." Now Adrian was blushing profusely, the back of his neck burning with embarrassment. "You're good. Very...very...good..."

Trudy gave his hand a tug forward; he had almost forgotten he was still holding her hand, it had felt so natural. "One Willie Nelson song. _Please_?"

"Alright..." He relented, his mouth once again taking on that heavy, dry feeling. He walked into her apartment, knowing she probably felt the sweat growing on his palm.

She released his hand to go over to her eight track tapes...Adrian noticed how cold it became without her touch. He looked around her apartment curiously.

It was so much..._brighter _than his. There was color everywhere...purple and gold curtains...newspaper clippings tacked across the walls...notepads and story leads neatly stacked on the living room coffee table. There was another piece of paper with words scrawled across it...it didn't look like it was related to her work at all...

_He comes for me_

_His eyes filled with a love so pure_

_His arms wrapped around me with a love so tender_

_His heart beating for me with a love so real_

_My true love has come for me at last_

Adrian looked up at Trudy curiously, as she bent over to place the Willie Nelson tape on her well-worn radio, which had an eight track tape player.

"You're a poet?" He asked, his voice filled with a gentle awe.

Trudy spun around, her hands clasped in front of her uncomfortably. "What did you read? Those...those are rough drafts..."

"It was about your true love." Adrian breathed out...the poem had touched something deep and beautiful inside of him. "Your...true love finding you."

Trudy tucked a golden lock of hair behind her ear, self-consciously. "It's just something I do for my own enjoyment."

"It's amazing." He insisted, his eyes once again scanning the beautiful words written gracefully across the page. "Who is he?"

"Who is who?" She asked, tilting her head to one side.

"Your true love." Adrian raised his eyes to meet hers, and once again their gazes arrested each other. "The man in the poem. Your true love."

"I don't know." She admitted, breathlessly, her eyes still looking deep into his. "I'm still waiting from him. I was starting to lose hope...losing hope that there are men out there that can love...and _feel _loved...that deeply. As deeply as I feel."

"I feel _everything_ deeply." Adrian murmured, almost lost in his own thoughts now. "I feel...everything. So much...so much it hurts sometimes."

He swallowed nervously, finally taking his eyes away from hers. At that moment, the tape switched on and music filled the room.

Trudy gave a brilliant smile...the same smile he had first loved the day he saw her picture in the paper. She swayed back and forth to the music; leaving Adrian mesmerized.

"Don't you just love his voice?" She whispered, still sounding breathless.

He watched her; his mind now spinning with incoherent thoughts. He never thought this could happen to him...this had never been meant for him...

"Come...come here." She whispered, holding her hand out for him. He nervously shuffled forward, extending his hand, trusting whatever it was she had in mind. She slipped her hand in his, her warm, warm hand in his, and continued to sway back and forth. She was _dancing_...and holding his hand...she was dancing with _him_...

She pulled him closer, and he felt himself move without thought, moving closer to her. He stood closer to her now than he ever had before...so close he could feel her body heat radiate off of her...so close he could count each dark lash on her pretty blue eyes.

She lifted his right hand in hers and placed her left hand on his shoulder. He blinked, quickly; his mind was now uncharacteristically blank. He searched her face; hoping he'd find the answer there. He gave a hard swallow, he hardly knew what to do...his shaking hand found its way to her waist...he desperately hoped that she didn't feel the trembling as it rested there.

They swayed back and forth on the spot; her soft blue eyes watching his intense brown eyes deeply. Her eyes would leave his only to trail his darker features adoringly...almost as if she were memorizing his face too...

Adrian felt his breathing grow shallow as he swayed to the music with her; all his senses hypnotized by the moment. He could smell her...she smelled like freshly cut flowers...her golden hair shimmering under the lights...her warm hand still tightly holding his...his _other _hand trembling...trembling on her slender waist.

She was even closer now, and all Adrian could see were her lips, those soft...pink...beautiful lips. He wondered how they felt...how soft they were...

And suddenly, the tape stopped. The music stopped, and so did the hypnotic hold that had come over Adrian. He hesitated suddenly; shocked at how close his own lips had drifted towards Trudy's.

He pulled away quickly, his breathing still coming out deep and raggedly. He gazed around the room wildly, trying to ground himself once again.

"It's really warm in here." Trudy blushed, moving out of his arms...he felt his hand slip from off of her waist. "Let me open a window."

Trudy pushed open a window and he could see that she was just as flushed as he was. She also glanced around the room wildly, her eyes settling on the clock. "Wow...I didn't realize how late it was. I should really let you get going..."

Adrian nodded quickly, his hands now fidgeting again at his sides. He was trying to regulate his breathing again as fast as possible. "Thank you—thank you for helping me with the case, Trudy. And the Willie Nelson music—I...I really like him too."

Trudy smiled brightly, her cheeks finally beginning to regain their regular coloring. "I'm glad. And...thank you for the coffee tonight, Adrian. I'll—I'll see you tomorrow."

"T—tomorrow..." He stammered, before his clearer thoughts finally caught up with him. "Oh...right. The case. Yeah, we'll work on the case tomorrow."

"You have to promise me something." She continued, walking him towards the door. "When you solve the case, I get to write all about you."

Adrian found himself smiling again; shocked at how much he could actually smile in one night. "Okay...deal."

"Night, Adrian." She murmured, closing the door in front of her; the last glimpse of her was her dazzling sapphire eyes.

"Goodnight...my Trudy." He whispered, so low no one could hear the words but him. He turned to walk back to his own apartment...and for the very first time in his life...he didn't feel so alone.

As Adrian lay in his bed that night, he found that he couldn't sleep. It wasn't the sleepless nights that usually haunted him though, when he had something dark and terrible weighing on his mind, for now he was filled with nothing but pleasant, warm sensations.

He placed his hands behind his head; his mind filled with thoughts of Trudy. He had come so close to kissing her...he almost wished he had...and yet even coming that close had been magical enough...

He wondered if her lips were as soft as they looked. He had never kissed a girl before, never even come as close as he had tonight. There were hopeless times when he truly felt he never would experience that; that his lips would never touch a woman's.

He wondered if Trudy's lips were as soft as they looked...as soft as her golden hair...as soft as her bright blue eyes...as soft as her kind personality.

_She said she didn't care. She doesn't care what I have wrong with me. _Adrian thought the words sounded impossible, even though he had heard them with his own ears. It was at that moment he made a decision; a resolution so deep he knew it would be true.

_I'll be the man she wrote about it in her poem._


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

Getting ready took slightly longer than usual for Adrian that morning. Not only did the entire apartment have to be wiped down, vacuumed, and cleaned, but he also had to take extra care in presenting himself for the day. He was, after all, going to see Trudy again that morning. He had gotten up extra early to make it over to her apartment and question the doctor before he was due in at the precinct.

Adrian looked in the mirror as he straightened the tie on his uniform. He was never so proud to be a cop before; even he thought he didn't look half-bad in his officer's uniform. He slipped on a long trench coat over it; Dr. Robert Jonas couldn't know he was a cop.

He was a little surprised at himself, going against Stottlemeyer's direct orders to drop his speculation and focus on the hit-and-run theory for the case.

But it was more than just speculation for Adrian. He _knew _something didn't add up at that crime scene. He _knew _he was right about his feelings regarding Lyla Daniels disability...at least ninety-five percent right. He couldn't be like Joe, moving through the department in hopes to gain job security. If someone had been _murdered_ in cold blood...and he _knew _it...well, he could count on his frustrating mind to continue to bother him incessantly until he solved the case and brought about true justice.

It was at that moment that Adrian made a decision for himself. Any case he was assigned to, he would work until it was solved...solved _correctly_. It was why he had become a cop in the first place. To help people...to bring a little comfort to other people's lives...comfort that no one in the world had brought him so far. No one but...Trudy.

Before long, he was standing outside of Trudy's apartment room, Room 302. He took in a deep breath and wrapped on the door. He was on the heels of his feet; so eager was he to see her smiling face again this morning.

She was as lovely as he remembered last night. She was dressed in a puffy yellow T-shirt, a very short jean skirt, but was wearing purple leggings underneath the jean skirt. Her golden hair fell delicately around her small frame.

"Good morning, Trudy." Adrian smiled, pulling his trench coat to the sides nonchalantly, hoping she would catch a glimpse of him in his uniform.

"Well, don't you look handsome." She smiled, playfully. She took a step out of her apartment, closing the door behind her. "You look good in that uniform..." She gave him a small wink. "I mean, that _uniform_ looks good on you."

Adrian gave a small, nervous chuckle. His cheeks flushed red as he gave a small nod of his head. "Well...the case...we should work on the case."

She whipped a measuring cup out from behind her back. "Guess who wants to borrow sugar from her neighbor?"

Adrian grinned, appreciatively. "You're very...crafty."

She gave another loud laugh, a sound he was beginning to love. "It's a trait needed to be a journalist in this city, trust me."

Adrian tucked his trench coat tightly around him as Trudy knocked loudly on the door. They waited a few moments before the door cracked open.

"Can I help you?" A tall man with a crew cut demanded, he was still dressed in his robes and had a newspaper tucked under one of his arms.

"Hi, Mr. Jonas, it's Trudy Ellison...I'm from just across the hallway." She held up the measuring cup with fake innocent enthusiasm. "My friend and I were baking a pie and...and we realized we're out of sugar. Can we borrow some of yours?"

Dr. Robert Jonas stared at them in annoyed disbelief. "You're making a pie at seven in the morning? Are you _serious_?"

"It's never too early for pie." Adrian shrugged, trying to keep his face very serious.

"That—that's right." Trudy nodded, holding up her measuring cup even more fervently.

"Fine...hurry up. It's my day off from the office and I fully intend to enjoy it." Dr. Robert snapped, watching as Adrian and Trudy entered his apartment room.

"I'll distract him and you look around." Trudy whispered, giving his arm an encouraging rub before walking towards the kitchen with Dr. Robert.

Adrian began to look carefully around the room, holding his hands out in front of him. He was snapping pictures for his mind...to place together with the other pictures he had already taken...so that all the little pictures could come together to form a big picture.

He looked up at a cabinet in the living room. There was a ring in there...it appeared to be very expensive...it was an engagement ring...

Adrian cocked his head to one side, his mind flashing with older pictures from his first day on that crime scene.

_He looked over the body with his hands held out in front of him—mentally taking a picture for himself—and noted a curious pale circle on her ring finger over her wedding ring._

"Lyla Daniel's missing ring...an engagement ring." He whispered, understanding now. He took a small wipe out of his pocket and opened one of the dressers on the cabinet. There was a note from a jeweler...so he was now going to sell the ring. There was also Lyla Daniel's doctor's file...a copy of her doctor's note for her disability...but what was it doing at his house...and not left in the office...

"They were having an affair." He murmured, the pictures finally starting to form a new picture in his mind.

"Excuse me!" Dr. Robert snapped, irritably. "Do you want sugar, or are you going to walked around my house uninvited?"

"Dr. Jonas," He began, a new confidence and excitement surging through him. "Did you recently break an engagement with anyone?"

Dr. Robert's eyes flashed dangerously. "Why do you ask?"

"You have a very expensive ring sitting on your cabinet. And inside the cabinet is a note from a jeweler's...your selling the engagement ring." Adrian explained, a small smile starting to work its way onto his face.

"Yeah, it was for my girlfriend but she left the country." Dr. Robert replied, his face now flushing red. "What's it to _you _anyway? Who are _you_?"

"He's my friend." Trudy spoke quickly, coming out of the kitchen, her measuring cup now filled to the brim with sugar.

Adrian moved towards the window, his mind still working smoothly and clearly...the rare times it worked so smoothly and clearly.

He hesitated near the window, noticing the apartment complex's parking lot below. He cocked his head to one side again; older pictures he had taken now flooding his mind. "Do you...do you own that green Volvo down there?"

"What are you, a cop?" Dr. Robert demanded, now moving forward to shut the curtains quickly. "Both of you...out of here!"

They didn't need to be told twice. Adrian and Trudy hurried out the door; which Dr. Robert had quickly slammed behind them.

But before he closed the door, Adrian's eyes caught a glimpse of something. A pair of keys was dangling on a rack by the door. The keys belonged to a Volvo...and there had only been one Volvo down in that parking lot...a _green _Volvo...

Adrian closed his eyes, another picture falling into place with all the other pictures his mind had collected over the course of the case.

"_These paint chips...they belong to a green Volvo. You can tell by the type of paint used, it's only put on the Volvo models."_

"Well, I'm sorry I couldn't distract him longer. He seemed very jumpy though, didn't he? Like why should he care if you were a cop?" Trudy mused, holding the sugar cup carefully.

Adrian slowly opened his eyes; a warm feeling now coursing through his veins. He slowly turned towards Trudy a wide smile spreading across his face.

"What?" Trudy asked, her own face giving a small, curious smile. "Your smile...it's so smug. I've never seen _this_ smile before."

He continued to gaze into her eyes; his smile now growing broader and more self-satisfied with every step they took.

"Did you just..." Trudy's own smile began to widen in surprise. "Did you just solve the case, Detective Adrian Monk?"

He nodded, looping his arm into hers as they continued down the hallway and towards the stairs together.

"So now I get to write my story." She gave her loud laugh, squeezing his arm in hers. "Tell me, _Detective _Monk, how does it feel to be a hero?"

Adrian gave a soft chuckle, leaning his head on top of her soft golden hair. And as they continued to walked, arm in arm, he knew the answer to her question. He had never felt prouder.


	7. Chapter 7

**Author's Note: Sorry everyone! I was gone on vacation, so that's why I haven't been able to update for awhile! But a BIG thanks to everyone who has read/reviewed in that time. I hope that you like this next chapter! **

**Chapter 7**

Adrian and Trudy quickly strolled into the police department, and were a little surprised at the crowd of officers that had already gathered. Much to Adrian's dismay, he realized that everyone, including Leland Stottlemeyer, was gathered around the deputy commissioner.

"The press has been hounding us about this case!" Deputy Commissioner Davidson yelled, his eyes burning towards Stottlemeyer. "Your unit has been on this case...and what have we gotten? Some crackpot theories before settling on a hit-and-run! We're being called a bunch of jokes...that's what someone called me on my way to the office this morning...a _joke_..."

Stottlemeyer glanced around the room uncomfortably, before his gaze caught Adrian's. Stottlemeyer inched towards him, his eyes flashing. "Monk! The Deputy Commissioner is really coming down hard on us. You oughta hang back and let me take the heat. I can handle it. I've been here a lot longer than you."

"But, sir," Adrian began eagerly, trying as hard as he could to get his watch commander to understand. "I _solved _the case."

"Yeah, yeah. We're about the make the arrest. That college kid..."

"No...no. It was Dr. Robert Jonas, sir. It was always him. _He's _the guy. He and Lyla Daniels were having an affair; they faked the whole thing to collect the two million dollars insurance policy together..." Adrian whispered hurriedly to Stottlemeyer. "We need to arrest her doctor, the doctor who wrote that phony injury note, Dr. Robert Jonas."

"Monk, is this that theory I told you to drop? Because I told you to _drop it_." Stottlemeyer gave him a warning look. "You think I can do anything about that _now_, with the deputy commissioner breathing down my neck?"

"Sir, please," Adrian blinked quickly, his lips pursing together. "I _solved_ the case."

Stottlemeyer looked at his young officer intently, and Adrian could see two conflicting sides raging within him; a side that was the uniform...and a side that truly believed Adrian and what it was he was saying.

"Monk, I _can't_ go against the deputy commissioner." Stottlemeyer hissed, his jaw grinding intently.

"Is that you or the uniform talking, sir?" Adrian whispered, his voice now growing more urgent. He could never get people to understand...to _believe _him...he wasn't just sad, scared, awkward Adrian...there was more...there was more...he _hoped _there was more.

"Darn it, Monk, I _am _the uniform!" Stottlemeyer snapped, his own dark blue eyes filled with the same intense desperation.

"I believe him, sir." And suddenly his partner, Joe Christy, was by his side. Someone was actually...standing by _his _side. Joe clasped Adrian's shoulder, confidently. "If Monk thinks Dr. Robert Jonas is the killer, than he's the killer. That's good enough for me."

Stottlemeyer looked from both Adrian to Joe, and Adrian could see that the internal battle was still raging. But he could see that there was something else too...the side of Stottlemeyer that demanded truth and justice...was beginning to win out.

"Monk, we'll never work in this city again. Neither of us." Stottlemeyer sighed, heavily, turning on his heels to leave. "Christy, you better come to."

"Hey, hey!" Deputy Commissioner Davidson shouted, his eyebrows lowering ominously. "Where do you three think _you're _going?"

"We're going to go arrest the killer and bring justice to Lyla Daniels." Stottlemeyer informed; his tone brisk and rough. "_Sir_."

"Leland—if you walk out that door and you're wrong about this, you will never work in this department again. Do you hear me? _Never _again!"

Stottlemeyer's jaw set tightly. He turned to Adrian again with burning blue eyes. "You better be one hundred percent on this one, Monk."

"I am, sir." He nodded vigorously. "_Ninety-five_ percent."

Trudy turned to him and gave another wink; at this point he was quite confident that those winks were unequivocally meant for him. "Let's go get your man, detective."

Adrian nodded, and they fell in step behind Stottlemeyer and Joe Christy; the four of them heading off towards Dr. Robert Jonas's apartment.

Stottlemeyer knocked loudly on Dr. Robert's door; his eyes still trained on Adrian. "You know, Monk, when I first met you...you were touching a lamp in my office repeatedly. I should've known then how much trouble you were."

Adrian gave a small smile and shrug of his shoulders; he leaned over to touch one of the lamps hanging on the hallway wall.

Stottlemeyer sighed; but there was a ghost of a smirk on his face now. He wrapped on the door again. "Open up! Police!"

The door swung open to reveal Dr. Robert Jonas still clad in his robes. His face darkened immediately. "What is this all about? Officer, these kids are crazy. They said they were baking pies at seven in the morning...that strange, nervous one kept poking around..."

"This strange, nervous guy is a police officer too." Stottlemeyer intoned, nodding towards the inside of the apartment. "Can we step in?"

"Officer, I must protest..."

"Look," Stottlemeyer rubbed his forehead, irritably. "I've been having a real bad week. You're going to cooperate so that this week can end as fast as possible, okay?"

Adrian nodded; he could feel his confidence growing as they stepped inside the apartment. All the pieces were falling into place...the final picture had come together...

"Detective Monk seems to think you're guilty of murder." Stottlemeyer nodded towards Adrian, who was pacing the floor slowly with his hands folded tightly. "What do you say?"

"I say he's crazy." Dr. Robert snapped, angrily.

"He's one of the best cop's I've ever met." Joe replied, placing his hands nonchalantly in his pockets. "Tell 'em what happened, Monk."

Adrian glanced over at Trudy; beautiful, beautiful Trudy. She had smiled at him, she had held his hand, and she had _winked_ at him when no one else had ever come close.

Trudy gave him an encouraging nod; her eyes shining; her soft, soft lips turned up into that beautiful smile...the smile was the first thing he had fallen in love with.

"Here's what happened..." Adrian began, holding out his hands in front of him, a ghost of a smile still on his face. The picture was complete now.

"You and Lyla Daniels were having an affair." Adrian explained, keeping his dark glance on Dr. Robert's. "When her house had the cave in, you two thought you had hit the jackpot. After all, _you_ were a doctor. You could easily create a false injury note and certify that she needed to be wheel-chair bound."

"The two of you collected on the two million dollar insurance policy; Lyla was splitting it with you. Then you two became engaged. You bought her a very nice, very expensive engagement ring." Adrian titled his head to the side, his smile broadening. "An engagement ring she wore until she reconciled with her husband."

"This is crazy! This man in crazy...is this guy a police officer? He's completely insane!" Dr. Robert's cried, but there was a new look in his eyes...fear. Adrian recognized fear...he had seen it in his own reflection for far long enough, after all.

"He might be..._unconventional_." Stottlemeyer smiled; giving Adrian an encouraging nod as well. "But what he's saying is starting to make a heck of a lot of sense to me."

Adrian titled his head to one side; bolstered by this vote of confidence. "Once she reconciled with her husband, you were both heartbroken and possibly out of splitting two million dollars. Was she going back on the agreement now that you two were finished? What were you to do?" Adrian reached out...there was a lamp that needed to be touched...he turned his attention back to the criminal. "_What _were you to do?"

Dr. Robert's jaw clenched; a vein was beginning to show near his forehead.

"You decided to run her down. She worked the night shift, that's why you'd leave at one or two in the morning, like Ms. Ellison can testify to. You knew _exactly _where she'd be at two that morning. Coming out of the parking lot at her job on Vinton St. You waited for her, but she saw you." Adrian took a step forward, his smile not faltering, his gaze growing more intense. "She got out of the wheelchair to run, but you ran her down anyway. With your green Volvo, which is parked outside. You left some of its paint at the crime scene, you know."

"This is unbelievable..." Dr. Robert muttered, but Adrian wasn't finished with his summation. No...there was still one more picture that needed to be explained.

"You got greedy, doctor. You _knew _her husband would now collect on the two million dollar insurance policy leaving you with _nothing_. So you did the only thing you could do. You took that _very _expensive engagement ring off of her dead body to sell back to the jewelers." Adrian gave a small roll of his shoulders, watching the doctor intently. "Was it worth it?"

Trudy glanced up, her hand had previously been quickly running over her notepad, and Adrian could see the pride shining in her eyes. Pride for _him_.

Dr. Robert's eyes twitched. The vein was now bulging in his forehead. He clenched his jaw several times before finally bursting, "She double-crossed me, that witch! After all I did for her...double crossed _me..._well, it was the last thing she ever did. It was the last thing she ever did, wasn't it?"

"And that's the last thing you'll ever do." Stottlemeyer nodded; now beaming, his blue eyes having a prideful shine in them. "Officer Christy, book him."

Joe clasped Adrian on the back and gave him a quick nod before arresting the doctor, simultaneously reading him his rights.

Stottlemeyer walked towards Adrian, and Adrian could see the small smile working beneath his mustache. "Well, Detective Monk, it looks like you're a hero again."

"It...it was nothing, sir." Adrian shrugged, blinking quickly.

"It might be nothing to you." Stottlemeyer shrugged. Then he clasped Adrian on the shoulder tightly. "But to me...it means that I'm trusting you from now on."

"Thank you...thank you, sir."

Trudy walked over to Adrian, her notepad still clutched in her hands, her eyes still radiating with pride. She held up her notepad and pencil playfully. "Tell me, Detective Monk. How does it feel to be a _genius_?"

"It's a gift..." Adrian shrugged, but inside he could feel his chest swelling. "And a curse..."

"Sounds like a gift to me." She smiled, her hand still scrawling rapidly on her notepad. "And that'll be the title of my _first_ front page story. Adrian Monk: San Francisco's Gift."


	8. Chapter 8

**Author's Note: Ok, so this is the final chapter! A BIG, BIG, BIG thanks to everyone who read/reviewed/and added this story to their favorites. It meant a lot to me and I am really going to miss writing this story! Thanks again and I hope you enjoyed it!**

**Chapter 8**

"Did you read the newspaper? Did you _read_ it?" Adrian enthused to his mother and brother later that week. He was clipping it out to send to them as he talked to them both on speakerphone; but he knew they must've already received their own edition.

"Adrian...it says 'Adrian Monk: San Francisco's Gift." His mom read slowly, and he could picture her holding it out slightly away from her; squinting beneath her reading glasses. "Adrian...it says here that you're a hero...it says you're a genuine American hero."

"I know." Adrian laughed, blinking to keep the tears from entering his eyes.

"Hey, Adrian, the girl who wrote this article...the girl named Trudy Ellison. She's _the_ girl. She's the girl, isn't she?" Ambrose asked, quietly. "I—I can tell. I can tell that it's her by the way she writes about you."

Adrian smiled; lifting Trudy's smiling black and white picture up in the newspaper. He had placed her old picture near his new picture; the picture they had run across the front page. "Yeah. Yeah, that's Trudy. We're—we're meeting later tonight. To—to chat. She _likes _to chat...with _me_. That's what she said. She said, 'I like chatting with you, Adrian'. And she likes poetry and music and this guy named Willie Nelson...he's a singer...I'll bring a tape of him to Mom's birthday party...it's great stuff..."

"You're..." Adrian could hear his brother swallowing heavily on the other end, choked with emotion. "You're coming to Mom's birthday party, Adrian?"

"Of _course _I'm coming." Adrian smiled, straightening the mirror that was hanging on his wall. That mirror he used to hate so much. "We _have _to celebrate Mom's birthday. As—as a family. Together."

Adrian straightened up, looking into his own eyes shining back at him in that mirror. His childhood house might've been filled with terrible memories...a dark and hopeless past...but he almost felt that this new life he created...the police department...his work for the city as a detective...maybe even beautiful Trudy...could help redefine him. So that when he went back to _that _house...it wouldn't be his life anymore. He could visit...but now he knew he could also leave again.

"I'm—I'm glad you found this girl, Adrian." His mom replied, and Adrian was thankful to hear that she seemed to be in better spirits today. Adrian knew it was hard for his Mom, it was hard for her to _try_ and be happy, after all that happened...because of all she was going through...but it pleased him to think that his heroics detailed in the paper might've helped her a little.

"I'm glad you found this girl." She continued; and Adrian could see her in his mind's eye: long textured, black hair laying down her shoulders; her dark brown eyes looking so much like his own. "She can help take care of you...so that I don't have to worry...don't have to worry so much about you, Adrian."

"Yeah, Mom." He nodded, smiling at himself in the mirror. His dark eyes looked back at him; and he felt a glimmer of hope...a glimmer of hope of what just _might _be somewhere deep inside of him. Maybe in the place only beautiful Trudy seemed able to reach. "I'm glad I found her too."

"So would you like something to drink? I'm getting some milk, would you like some too?" Trudy asked, now wearing what he liked her in the best: a simple white blouse and the knee-length blue skirt; her golden hair falling placidly down her back.

He was over at Trudy's later that night, they had spent their opening minutes together talking and congratulating each other on the case and front page article.

Adrian stiffened on the couch, shaking his head quickly. "Milk? No...no...God, no."

Trudy lifted an eyebrow uncertainly but nodded. She placed a cup of water next to a box of powder. "How about juice?"

"Orange juice is fine." He nodded, watching her pour the powder into the water and begin stirring. "You drink..._powdered _milk?"

"Yeah...I've never liked the taste of real milk." She shrugged, walking back towards the couch with powdered milk in one hand and orange juice in the other.

"You _don't_ like milk?" He asked, in awe as his hand took the glass of orange juice out of hers. He still got shivers every time their fingers brushed together. "You're perfect."

Trudy gave another one of her loud laughs; now he _knew _he liked it. "Cheers." She said raising her glass. "To the best detective and the best journalist in the city of San Francisco."

"I'll drink to that." He smiled, playfully, clinking his glass on Trudy's before taking a drink of orange juice. "Wow...that's some good stuff."

Trudy laughed, placing her glass down on the table. She turned to him; a light shining in her eyes. "How did you do it?"

He smiled back at her...he loved her smile. "Do what?"

"Do all those...amazing things you did. I have to admit, _I _was genuinely impressed, and not too much impresses me." Trudy raised an eyebrow teasingly. "You have to have some cynicism to be a good journalist, after all."

Adrian gave a soft chuckle; he couldn't imagine anyone less cynical than Trudy but he also couldn't imagine anyone being a better journalist. "It's a gift...and a..."

"No, no...don't say it." She interrupted, holding up the front page of the newspaper. "I read an article by a journalist named Trudy Ellison. She seems to think it's gift."

"Well...I guess I shouldn't contradict _her_." Adrian grinned, folding his hands nervously on his lap, surprised that their chatting had been going so well. "So...how did _you _do it?"

"Do what?" She smiled, leaning back into the couch, one of her beautiful arms propped behind her head; this caused the blouse to pull back slightly and put some of her bare arm on display.

Adrian tried his hardest not to stare. Shaking his head and clearing his throat he continued, "How did you decide to...to give _me _a chance?"

And now the tears were rushing into his dark brown eyes making them glassy again. He blinked furiously; frustrated with himself that he was so prone to emotional showings.

Trudy titled her head to one side; a small smile still playing across her soft, pink lips. She placed a hand on his shoulder...it felt so warm...so warm. "I've been looking for a _real_ man. I didn't think they existed anymore. Someone who...feels as deeply as you do. So deeply it hurts sometimes...I know...but maybe so deeply that it can feel—it can feel wonderful too."

Adrian blinked, trying his hardest not to let the tears fall from his eyes; but he could feel the tips of his dark lashes becoming wet. "It—it _does _feel wonderful."

Her words hadn't sunk in and become real yet...they were only hitting him in bits and pieces. The part where she had called him a real man...that was enough to focus on for an entire week alone...he would put the rest away for contemplation later.

Soon he could not contemplate thoughts at all, however, as she leaned in and placed those soft, soft pink lips up against his cheek. He felt the pressure on his cheek...how silky smooth her lips were...pressed to his skin. It felt like a scorching fire was raging there before she finally pulled away again.

He closed his eyes tightly; intent to let these new feelings and sensations sink in. These were the feelings he thought impossible for him to experience...the most beautiful woman in the world...kissing _him_ on the cheek...him with all of his hopelessness...he hardly felt worthy.

He opened his eyes slowly to gaze upon her face with perfect adoration. Small wisps of golden strands fell along her sweet, round face. Her sapphire eyes gazed at him just as lovingly...her soft, soft pink lips...he _knew_ how soft those lips were now...parting slightly...

He slipped his eyes shut again; a new sort of confidence and desire pulsing through his veins, and he leaned forward slightly. He felt her heated breath warm his face as he leaned in closer to her...daring to believe that any of this was real...

He felt his lips brush up against hers tenderly. He pushed himself forward a little more, and she met him this time, pressing her lips softly into his. Her lips were soft...softer than he ever imagined...softer than they had even felt on his cheek. Her lips felt so good on his lips...it wasn't supposed to feel that good...not for anyone else...only for him...for him and Trudy...

He opened his eyes slowly and pulled away from her; his breath coming out in deep and ragged bursts. He swallowed heavily, his mouth now feeling very dry. He reached his hand out slowly—it was trembling uncontrollably—and cupped her cheek in his hand.

"Trudy." He whispered, his eyes searching her face closely...trying to see if the kiss had impacted her as deeply as it had impacted him. He was pleased to find that she too was taking in deeper breaths; her small chest rising and falling rhythmically.

"Adrian, I..." The words slowly faded into silence...but Adrian understood. He understood perfectly what she wanted to say...for the first time in his life he felt the same way.

"Trudy," He murmured again, and this time when he blinked the tears finally dripped down onto his cheeks. He pressed on; trying not to falter now...to ride this wave of confidence she was inspiring in him. "You want to go out sometime...I—I mean, have...have a real _date _sometime? You know...together. I could take you someplace really nice..."

"I'd love that, Adrian Monk." She smiled, tenderly thumbing away his tears. She then slipped one hand into his before leaning her head on top of his shoulder; he felt warmth course through his entire body. He tried to control his heartbeat; it felt like it was pounding out of his chest.

Adrian rested his head on top of hers and glanced up towards the outside windows. He saw his own reflection staring back at him in the clear glass. He gave a small smile; his reflection smiled right back. He nodded at his reflection...it nodded back. He slowly closed his eyes...his reflection didn't bother him so much right now.

"Do you like rock museums?" Adrian asked, thoughtfully, lifting his slightly trembling hand so that he could gently stroke it through her long strands of golden hair.

"I've never been to one." She replied, and he could see the small smile on her face.

"I could take you to one sometime." He offered, softly. "You can take me to hear Willie Nelson and I'll—I'll take you to a rock museum."

"I'd really like that."

Adrian closed his eyes slowly, his one hand entwined in hers, his other hand still tenderly stroking through her soft, soft hair. His mind was still reeling...so unfamiliar was he with all that had happened already...but he finally settled on a thought that brought him some peace...some contentment away from his usually anxious mind.

It was her smile...he first fell in love with her smile...

_Fin._


End file.
